


My Rosebud Boy

by GreenEggsnSam



Series: They Carried On [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: F/M, M/M, Set a few years after, Short, Simon learns he is not a Normal AND HAS A LOVING PARENT WHO IS DEAD BUT STILL, alternative ending I suppose?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:37:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7349890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenEggsnSam/pseuds/GreenEggsnSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year and a half after Simon's last confrontation with the Humdrum and Simon hasn't shown an ounce of magic in him, that is until he finds the Sword of Mages in one hand, and a bubbling Penny in the other. Turns out he wasn't the Normal he had thought he was, despite the fact mages don't abandon their own. (Simon always had to be the exception).</p>
<p>A short Fic where Simon learns his parentage, Penelope is infuriated by The Mage's methods, and Baz convinces Simon he is, and always was loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Rosebud Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the book, I really did, but I needed something more. I haven't written in years, but needed to for Carry On. This is basically the ending that happened in my head, a few years after the books story line. I took a few liberties, but I hope I got everything right. 
> 
> (Also I'm shit at first person. Tried my best to get them in third).

It had been a year and a half since Simon’s last confrontation with the Humdrum. According to Professor Bunce – the male one, the dead spots were closing at a steady rate, and the earliest ones nearly gone. The newer, bigger spots, such as the one over Hampshire were closing at a slower rate, but were expected to quicken once the other holes filled. It was estimated that in three years, no trace of the Insidious Humdrum would remain.

Rumor had it the Grimm-Pitches were already planning their moving date.

It was remarkable how quickly the dead spots had come alive. Professor Bunce had spent a late afternoon explaining it to them a few weeks back. All patterns suggested that the natural flow of magic had been attempting to right them all along, and once the driving force expanding them was gone, the magic was free to flow in.

What _was_ remarkable was how much the holes wanted to be filled.

Simon and Penny were still living in their flat. They both studied at the local university, and when times allowed it, took shifts at local business to lend them a little extra cash (Penelope preferred the bookstores for their unlimited access to text - Simon the local eateries for the free food). Micah visited during breaks and spent a week here or there. Penny did the same for America.

Micah and Penny skyped _constantly_.

Baz as promised, lurked in their doorway. He practically lived there.

Tonight they were going out. It was a rare night where Penny and Simon went out, but there was new book café in town and neither wanted to miss the opportunity to go.

Simon’s wings were safely hidden with **These are not the droids you’re looking for** , but he could still feel them shudder with excitement. It wasn’t often they could escape the pressures of magic, academia, and their own lives like this.

“Maybe they’ll have every Normal classic dating back from the Victorian Era – it would help spread the magic in the old texts. If it’s popular the possibilities are endless!” Penny had gone off on the implications of Normal literacy and Simon couldn’t help but tune her out a little.

 “Maybe they’ll have sour cranberry scones.” He said.

Penny scoffed at him.

* * *

 

 It was something in the alleyway on their way back from the café that made them stop. (The cafe had been a mild disappointment – no scones and no classic, just the same as was available at the bargain books stores. The food had been alright, just not _Watford alright)_.

It was the glowing eyes reflecting from the street lamp, and the multiple growls that seemed to emit from a single source.

Penny casted **Let there be light** at the same instant Simon finished the incantation for the Sword of Mages – old habits _always_ died hard for him.

Light illuminated the alleyway. It was a dog.

“Shoo Shoo” Penny waved and it skirted away. She turned to Simon, a joke on her lips, but froze before its execution. Simon saw her focus on his right hand.

In his hand he held the sword, just as he had years prior, when _he_ was magic. Simon felt a warmth in his chest that he thought he’d never feel again. Wait, not again. Anew. This warmth was calm, warming and gentle. It did not burn.

“The sword… it came” Simon whispered. He was dumbfounded. His mind kept switching between belief and disbelief every second, trying to figure out which would hurt less.

Time seemed to stand still in that instant. That is, until Penny got over her shock and shattered it. She grabbed Simon’s arm and started to shake him. She was practically squealing in excitement.

Simon settled on belief.

When Penny calmed she called Baz.

 

* * *

 

“We are going to Dr. Wellbelove and getting your DNA checked! Why haven’t you had this done before? Everyone who’s ever gone to Watford had DNA on record! All Coven members and extended family have DNA on record! Practically every known magician had DNA on record!” Penelope’s giddiness from before was quickly being replaced by the incompetence of the entire World of Mages.

Simon had natural magic of his own. It was different then the magic he used to carry. Soft and warm flames, the opposite of the explosion he used to have. It was also small, so _so_ small, but still growing. Penny and Baz could barely feel it.

They supposed it was a result of Simon giving his magic to Humdrum. That it had sucked up everything in him. Like the voids/holes, he was slowly being filled.

What they didn’t suppose was how much he’d be filled.

Simon shrugged. “The mage never mentioned it. Guess he didn’t find it necessary or have the time.”

Penelope frowned to that answer. _Mages don’t abandon their own._ That’s what The Mage had always told Simon. That’s what Penelope and Baz both knew, but these new turn of events made Simon the exception _again_. Simon was _always_ an exception.

“Or the Mage was hiding something.” Baz hadn’t bothered hiding his distain. The Mage’s withholding information was nothing new.

Baz had been watching Simon, which was also not new. There was a struggle on Simon’s face, his generally clear eyes stormy, and his body appeared folded up on itself, wings bent so that they practically encased his sides. Penelope hadn’t seen that mixture of caution and hope from Simon since their first year at Watford.

By Baz’s slight frown it was evident he noticed the same.

“Either way you’re getting tested. Now.” Penelope said.

  

* * *

 

Results: Lucy Salisbury and David ____, “The Mage”

Simon didn’t know what to think. Penny was livid. Baz watched Simon.

 

* * *

 

Simon hadn’t said much since the results. Just confirmation grunts, and the occasional yes or no.

“What do you mean you were his son!?” Bunce demanded, not from Simon, but from an apparent higher force. Had The Mage been alive, Baz had no doubt she would have killed the man himself.

Simon still hadn’t said anything. His face uncharacteristically blank.

“Are you actually thinking for once, Snow?” Baz added an extra dose of snide to his voice to get Simon’s attention.

It worked.

“I told you to call me Simon.” Simon shook his head, exasperated. “Its just, the last time…. the Mage said he made me, but made me flawed. A cracked container.”

That didn’t sound like choice description of a child to any of them.

It was just like Bunce to voice it.

 “Just like the mage. Make his own child sound like a research project…wait.” Bunce’s eyes had gone wide. We all knew that look. Realization led her to leap to her room, and come back with her labtop and multiple ambiguous folders in hand that Baz was certain she shouldn’t be in custody of. He made sure his face showed it as Bunce began to explain herself. “My mom, not wanting any of his research to be lost, regardless of how radical or crazy – sorry Simon, she kept all The Mages stuff.  She found something. It was…a plan. To create a chosen one. She cast it off as ridiculous but what-”

Simon interrupted her. “I wasn’t the chosen one. The Mage said it himself.”

Baz: “Hush you’re our chosen one. We chose you. Continue.”

Bunce continued undeterred, and pulled a specific paper from the folders. Baz took a look over her shoulder “My mother assumed he never tried it, after all, the child needed to be born and everyone thought Lucy abandoned him and left to California. Nobody had seen her since.” Penny winced at her phrasing, “He said you were made. He used her in the ritual….”

 “And seeing the amount of magic he placed inside Snow, she probably didn’t survive.” Baz finished what she couldn’t. His eyes were on Simon.

Simon was fighting to keep his face blank.

 “I might have to think about this.” He said carefully. He was curled up again, wings stretched against his sides like a blanket. A flashing tail betrayed his apparent calm.

Baz briefly wondered if he should call the psychiatrist, despite his dislike of her.

Bunce interrupted his thought. “I have to tell my mother about this. I –“ She shared a meaningful look with Baz. “Simon will you be alright?”

“Yea” Simon nodded and pressed his lips into a thin smile at her. It was pathetic. Penny shared another meaningful look with Baz.

“I’ll see you guys soon.” And she was gone.

They sat in silence for some time. Simon was first to break it.

“Guess I’m not a Normal…” Simon said after a while “but...”

_Mages don’t abandon their children._

Baz knew what Simon was thinking.

“Remember what I said. Lucy most likely did not survive. Noone has heard anything from her. And the Mage… he couldn’t handle a child, let alone an Heir or the whole World of Mages.” Baz, again, didn’t hide the distain that leaked into his voice. It was unbelievable that a man, even in death, could still be causing them so many issues. He was tired of The Mage hurting Simon.

Baz reached to grab Simon’s hand, and Simon allowed him to take it. He gave it a quick squeeze. The hand was just as warm as when Simon was full of fire. Simon was always full of fire – just now a different type. Less burning, more soothing, but still warm.

“It’s just…” Simon struggled to get it out.

“Your words, Snow.”

Simon sent him an exasperated look.“It’s just, I wonder if she hated me for it. I mean, how could she not?” He looked at Baz, his usual clear blue eyes were storming.

“I don’t think she did.” Baz answered, more certain than he had expected. Simon’s eyes reminded him a night not too long ago and a conversation that started everything.

“What? How could you be so certain?”

“Remember that night? The night you heard my mother. You said you heard her come back a second time.” Simon  nodded and Baz briefly broke their eye contact to look up - to where the stars would’ve been if the roof wasn’t obstructing them. “I was never my mother’s rosebud boy.” It was the truth. Baz was a lot to his mother, but never a rosebud, and certainly never the stars. She was firmly fixed on the ground, Watford, the world, and the future. Never enough time to look up. Never time to stop and smell the roses.

Baz returned his gaze to Simon. He was silent, uncharacteristically thinking again. His eyes were wide and open. He was looking at Baz like he’d seen the light – a look of shock, confusion and thought, but full of hope.

Baz looked straight back. “What did you say she said? _My son, my rosebud boy. I never would have left you. He told me…_ ”

 “… _we were stars_.” Simon smiled. He leaned forward and Baz did the same, a soft smile forming on his own lips.

They kissed. It was warm, it was fire, but it did not burn.

They could carry on.


End file.
